


The Vision's Nothing

by SwordoftheJedi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst to Fluff, M/M, and husband makes it better, death dream, presh baby has a nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:23:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20142469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordoftheJedi/pseuds/SwordoftheJedi
Summary: Crowley suffers a nightmare, and Aziraphale makes him feel better. As he always does.





	The Vision's Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Soooo I first started writing this as a role play starter for my bestie. Then it kinda....took on a mind of it's own and became super long sooo I added an ending and voila xD

_Crowley walked into Aziraphale's bookshop, which was far from unusual. What was unusual, however, was that there was no sign of said Angel in sight. "Aziraphale?!" he called with a light frown._

_"You really are pathetic, you know that?" asked a voice that made Crowley's blood grow colder than usual. He quickly turned his head to see Gabriel, Aziraphale beside him. The demon inwardly panicked, giving Aziraphale a once over to make sure he wasn't hurt. He gave a sigh in relief when his angel seemed to be unharmed. _  
  
"I mean really," Gabriel continued. "You were obviously a terrible angel, considering that you fell, and you're an even worse demon. But the most pathetic thing is that you actually believe that Aziraphale, an angel, gives a damn about you," he chuckled darkly. "Not a chance. No angel would risk falling by allowing themself to truly care about a demon. He merely pitied you, so he'd been entertaining the notion that the two of you could possibly be friend," the Archangel spoke with another chuckle. "And you fell for it," he smirked.  


_Crowley stared in silence for a long moment, before common sense came back to him. "Isn't lying a sin, Gabriel?" he smirked back._

_"He isn't," came Aziraphale's voice, though it was not as carefree and soft as it usually was. "He's not lying, that is," he continued. "We're an angel and a demon. We could never be anything but enemies. Surely you knew that, beneath your incessant need to fill the void left behind by your fall,"_

_Crowley felt as if his heart had jumped into his throat. Surely Gabriel had a hand in controlling his mind or something of the sort. Aziraphale couldn't meant that. But as Crowley searched his face, he saw no indication of that. "Aziraphale," he said quietly, voice trembling ever so slightly. "If I upset you somehow, I'm sorry," he continued, reaching out to the angel. But Aziraphale jerked away before contact could be made. Crowley quickly tried to mask his hurt with his usual nonchalant manner. "Fine. Have it your way. But don't come crying to me when Heaven screws you over. I won't be there, not this time," he stated, willing himself to walk away, but his body refused to obey. _

_Golden eyes met amethyst and he felt a burning rage come over him. Gabriel, that smug bastard. Crowley bared his teeth and glared. The next thing he knew, he had launched himself at the Archangel. He came short on reaching him, however, as a barrier in the form of a flaming sword came up between them with a foot or more between them. Crowley looked at Aziraphale in shock. "Angel," he whispered, voice barely audible. _

_"You could be rid of him right now, Aziraphale. Just a lunge and you'd never have to waste your time on him again. And imagine the hero you'd be in Heaven. The angel that slayed the serpent," Gabriel urged. _

_Crowley didn't move from where he stood. No matter what in Heaven they did to Aziraphale, he'd never go that far. He was sure of that or at least he was until his gaze locked on Aziraphale's. His kind blue eyes had the hardened look of a warrior after Heaven's vengeance. Nontheless, Crowley didn't move in the face of it. What was the point? He hadn't the will to live in a world where Aziraphale cared so little about him. "Before you decide to go through with this, you should know that I love y-" but the sword struck before he finished._

Crowley awoke with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed, skin coated in a cold sweat. His hand flew to his chest, which was heaving in response to his rapid breathing. Once he came to the conclusion that he had no gaping wound in his chest, he ran a hand through his hair and then down his. "Blasted nightmares," he murmured to himself.

"Crowley, dear, what is it? Are you alright?" asked Aziraphale's sleep hazed voice.  
  
The serpent's gaze fell on his companion. His platinum hair was disheveled and sticking up everywhere as he rubbed bleary, sleep filled eyes to gaze at Crowley with loving concern. Crowley swore he melted right there.

"S'fine, Angel. Jusss, a bad dream," he replied.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Aziraphale asked softly. 

Crowley shook his head before laying back down and cuddling as close to his angel as possible. "Rather not. Just, hold me? Please?"

"Always," came Zira's gentle response as he wrapped his arms around Crowley. 

"I love you," Crowley whispered against his chest. 

"I love you too, dearest," Zira replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.

The demon fall back to sleep in his angel's arms. The fresh fear from his nightmare was quickly replaced by a feeling of immeasurable love.


End file.
